Dream A Little Dream of Me
by MarciaRebafan
Summary: "Fantasy: a series of pleasing mental images, usually serving to fulfil a need not gratified in reality." But just how interesting can some fantasies get?
1. Jethro

_**Author's Note:** This is a project Psycho Maddy and I once started, but it soon fell through, so we only got as far as writing two drabbles each. She recently told me that she lost the two drabbles she wrote, and I asked for her permission to post the two that I still have, which she gave me. So if you enjoy this very small series I'm about to start posting, you can thank Amanda ;)  
>Anyway, as you can very well imagine, we're dealing with fantasies of the sexual kind. The rating is that high for a very valid reason, so if you're not comfortable with explicit scenes do not read! This is as explicit as they come.<br>_

_I own nothing but the mistakes you'll find in this story and a little, comfy place in the gutter, from which most of my ideas stem.  
><em>

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><p><strong><em>Sexual ravaging.<em>**

A recurrent fantasy that he indulges in ever so often. He likes to think of having hot, urgent, forceful sex with her in unexpected places.

Not that they hadn't enough of that in the past, but he likes to fantasize about it now that she is off-limits.

He likes to imagine the knee-long skirt of her prim business suit hitched up around her waist, showing off her long, sexy legs encased in sinful black nylon stockings.

Her panties torn and forgotten on the floor in the heat of the moment. A groan of protest coming from her as she tries to push him away half-heartedly, using her body to let him know that she wants it just as much, despite the act.

He likes to think of her back pressed up against the wall of her office - or maybe against the cold steel wall of the elevator - and he imagines the way she would throw her head back, arching her elegant neck before his lips as he thrusts into her without a warning.

He thinks about the screams she would muffle, biting her lip hard enough for it to turn red and swollen. He revels in his fantasy of marking the creamy white skin of her throat with his teeth, well knowing that she will wear his bruises and bites for the world to see.

He imagines the sweaty, fast, rough intercourse as pure adrenaline rushing through their bodies, blood pumping almost too fast for them to even breathe. Her nails digging into his shirt-covered shoulders, hands tangling in his hair and pulling at it in an endless fight for dominance. Until he thrusts hard enough to send her over the edge, feeling her lips pressed against his head to muffle her moans as he buries his face in her chest, inhaling her scent deeply.

The elevator doors slide open in front of him, and suddenly his trousers feel far too tight as the subject of his fantasy appears in front of him.

"Jethro."

"Jen." He can't hide the smirk creeping up his face as she steps in next to him, his eyes observing her tantalizing curves under the conservative business suit she's wearing. "Going down?"

A smirk to match his own appears on Jenny's face and she glances at him suggestively, her eyes glinting in wicked amusement,

"You wish, don't you?"

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><p><strong>THE END<strong>


	2. Jenny

_**Author's Note:** This is the second - and last - installment to this fic. Psycho Maddy and I had more planned, but this is all I've written for this project. One day I might write a few more one-shots for this fic, but until then, this is all I have._  
><em>Enjoy!<em>

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><p><strong><em>Oral sex<em>**

Commonly, when fantasizing about oral sex, women dreamed of receiving a performance that would - quite literally - blow them away.

Jenny Shepard was no different.

Like every other woman, she liked to fantasize, and in her reverie she remembered exactly the way her body shook and trembled when her former lover had put his skilful mouth to good use, years back.

Nevertheless, she had to admit that reverse fantasies were not uncommon for her, either.

She liked to indulge in the memory of the few times she had offered Jethro the ability of her mouth to provide him with the release he needed.

The powerful, intoxicating feeling of being completely in control, greatly intensified by his abandon of any left restraint as he gave into the overwhelming pleasure so freely.

It was the knowledge of being able to break down his defences and wreak havoc with his self-control that made the act so rewarding to her, whereas other women - she knew - felt it was one of the most degrading things a woman could do to please her partner.

However, the effect it had on her psyche wasn't the only thing she enjoyed about performing oral sex.

It was also the anticipation slowly building inside of her, his breath hitching as her hands made quick work of unbuckling his belt and pushing his trousers and boxers out of the way.

A bubble of excitement forming in her stomach and blood rushing down to her lower body. Warmth radiating from her in slow, lazy waves, as she languidly dropped to her knees in front of him. Granting him with a false sense of power while she in fact controlled him as she touched and kissed all the right places to elicit low sounds of appreciation from him.

She revelled in how smooth and warm the taut skin felt beneath her lips, and she liked to taste him as she slowly but surely drove him towards his release.

She liked the way his hand tangled possessively in her auburn locks, slightly pulling her hair and gently pushing her head down to encourage her. It again led him into a falsely comforting feeling of being in control, when in fact it was just a silent plea for her to set the right pace that would bring him over the edge she had so much fun keeping him on.

Then, of course, she would start to recognize all the signs that told her just how close he was: the small contractions, the tense muscles of his thighs, and the salty savour on her tongue.

And when he finally shuddered his release, she never pulled away. Still eliciting low, erotic groans from him, that - along with his taste - inebriated and satisfied her.

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><p>"Jen… Jen?"<p>

The sound of the familiar voice shook her out of her fantasy, and Jenny looked up to find his mesmerising blue eyes staring right at her.

She moistened her lips, feeling like he caught her red-handed as her most recent erotic fantasy flashed across her mind, her eyes flicking down his body almost unconsciously.

"Yes, Jethro?" She set her eyes on his and crossed her legs, swallowing the low moan that arose in her throat at the shock of pleasure coming from adding pressure to her throbbing centre.

The sly smirk appearing on his face told her that he probably recognized the signs, and the horrifying feeling that she was going to blush hit her as she fixated him intensely, silently inviting him to speak.

"Ziva said you wanted me, Jen." His smirk became broader and he couldn't quite conceal the spark of wicked amusement in his eyes; if he had ever wanted to at all.

Jenny fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Oh yes. He had certainly recognized the signs.

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><p><strong>THE END<strong>


End file.
